A Strange Month
by lyricsaboutcats
Summary: A bit of silly fic taking place before the Burning Crusade. Kael'thas moves to Theramore and opens a cafe. (Thrall/Jaina)


On the first week of the strangest month of Jaina Proudmoore's life, Kael'thas moved to Theramore. A little cafe had opened by the main gates and there he was. The prince was selling soup and delicate snacks to anyone that wandered in, his elfen visage tucked neatly behind a spell.

Jaina's expression was either full of disappointment or exasperation when she stepped into the cafe's quaint interior. "The magic glamour doesn't work on me, Kael," she informed him, not quite sure yet which emotion was going to take precedence.

"Yes, I know that." He smirked at her mischievously while a simmering soup stirred itself. "I've come here to woo you before my fateful journey to Outland."

She glanced at the menu. "You're selling paninis... How are you going to woo anyone with those?"

"My dear Jaina, these are all non-MMO ingredients. Surely you can appreciate my good taste."

"What are you talking about?"

"Magically modified origins _."_

The emotion taking precedence definitely exasperation, Jaina decided. He looked utterly delighted. "Kael, you need to go home," she insisted.

"Come now, Jaina. Don't be so uptight," he responded. "Have the daily special, on me." He swiftly passed her a small dish, setting it on the counter with a certain amount of pride.

She looked down at the elegant greens curiously. "What is this?"

He gave her a smoldering side glance. "It's _saucy kale._ "

"By the light!"

* * *

On the second week of the strangest month of Jaina Proudmoore's life, Thrall appeared in Theramore.

Jaina had been arguing with Kael'thas, partly about paying taxes on his cafe and partly about the quantum entanglement required for proper teleportation, when the orc war chief gently opened the door and stepped in. Vol'jin followed behind him, bending down until his tall figure cleared the door frame.

The pair regarded the small shop and Kael'thas, apparently unmoved by the elf prince's state of human glamour.

"I did not allow you to join the Horde so you could inconvenience Jaina in her home," Thrall said with grave seriousness. "You will return now."

"Thank you, Thrall." Jaina exhaled a sigh of relief that someone else finally agreed with her. The port town's residents were quite enchanted with so many different soups at rock bottom prices, and so most wanted the new cafe to stay.

Kael'thas looked annoyed. "Surely you won't side with this brute," he implored her. "Don't you like me better than him?"

"Excuse me?" Jaina said.

"Pick one of us!" Kael'thas exclaimed rashly and confidently, sure that she would choose him and that would be the end of it. They would eat paninis together and it would become a funny story; that time Jaina picked the prince of Quel'Thalas over an orc. It would cover up that other story, not as funny, where she had picked Arthas.

All eyes fell upon Jaina as the room hushed under the elf's request and she felt that the conversation had taken a very odd turn somewhere. Thrall stood stoic and green near the doorway, his expression imperceptible, and Kael'thas was surrounded with an air of confidence that was perhaps not warranted.

Vol'jin thought the entire thing was quite the jest, despite his lack of fluency in common. Jaina had never seen a troll laugh like that before.

"I would pick Thrall," Jaina offered measuredly.

"What!?" Kael'thas immediately cried out, his face twisting into pure disbelief. "We studied together for eight years, Jaina. I will not let you choose him over me."

" _Congrats, mon,_ " Vol'jin said in orcish, his words punctuated by a chuckle. He patted Thrall on the shoulder while a blush crept over the war chief's stoic face.

"Why would you do this to me again?!" Kael'thas roared dramatically. Their funny story was completely ruined.

"Your prices are undercutting other legitimate establishments!" Jaina yelled back, her voice growing softer when she added: "Now, everyone, please go home."

"No! This is merely a setback! You have terrible taste in men and I will stay here until you come to your senses."

"That's not what any of this is about, Kael!"

Thrall's entire body had shifted into a rosy shade of red while Jaina and Kael'thas continued to argue with one another, oblivious to the orc's change of hue.

The next day Kael'thas' small cafe was still there. Jaina felt that perhaps she had expected that, stubborn as the elf prince was, but what she didn't expect was the bakery that had opened next to it.

 _Enthralling Edibles_ , the sign proclaimed with stern authority.

Jaina placed her fingers upon her temples when a headache suddenly began to appear there.

* * *

As Jaina had expected, there he was, in an odd way. There was an orb of disguise hanging from a chain around his wrist and so it was a decidedly human Thrall that greeted her when she entered the latest new shop in Theramore.

She didn't know what to say.

"I am taking a small vacation," he declared to her stiffly.

Jaina's gaze wandered around the quaint bakery, eventually halting when she turned to look into the back room. Vol'jin was standing there, sans any disguise, and he was delicately piping frosting onto exceedingly beautiful parfaits. She stared, puzzled by his skill. "Why doesn't he have a disguise?"

Thrall called out to the troll from the front counter, saying something grammatically complicated and serious-sounding in orcish. Vol'jin replied, waving a hand dismissively, and then he continued to pipe sugary decorations on top of the desserts.

"What did he say?" Jaina asked.

"I may be mangling his colloquial style," Thrall admitted gravely, "but he said, more or less, that he doesn't need a cheap disguise to grab some booty."

Vol'jin glanced over to Jaina, a sly smirk creeping over his face while her eyes widened at the implication. His confidence was unnerving, and she could have sworn that Thrall tossed a glare back at him in response.

The next day, Vol'jin was sent home by the human who was most definitely Thrall.

* * *

"What am I going to do, Aegwynn?" Jaina muttered, slumped at her desk. "They won't go home."

"Throw them in the dungeon, my dear," Aegwynn said.

"No, that would be a political disaster." Jaina put her head on the cool wood of her desk. A decanter of wine sat nearby and she had a pile of letters in front of her from various authorities, including Sylvanas and Cairne, tersely asking if she knew where the other Horde leaders had run off to.

"There are handcuffs down there, you know," Aegwynn purred. "Surely that's worth a bit of bureaucratic tussle."

Jaina closed her eyes and groaned. She shooed the old woman away.

* * *

On the third week of the strangest month of Jaina Proudmoore's life, something terrible happened.

She was standing in the little bakery, once again attempting to convince Thrall to return to Orgrimmar. The orb of deception had created a human form for him, and yet despite his new features he was still unmistakably Thrall. That bothered her greatly, although if someone had asked her to explain why she wouldn't have been able to articulate the exact reason.

"I am simply on a small detour before heading to Outland," he insisted to her gently but firmly.

"Thrall, you're operating a business under my jurisdiction," she told him. "That's not a relaxing vacation."

The human who was unmistakably Thrall, with all of his nuanced mannerisms and enduring charm, placed a hand on her shoulder. "There is a rumor that my grandmother is going to set me up with someone," he said to her quietly.

Jaina told him that was just great, and something hollow landed in her chest.

Just great.

* * *

On the fourth week of the strangest month of Jaina Proudmoore's life, he kissed her. That is to say, the handsome man that was not Thrall and yet terribly, incredibly Thrall kissed her.

It was, in itself, somewhat unsettling although not as unexpected as she felt it should have been.

The serious part, however, was that she was breathlessly kissing him back. It passed through her mind that it was the very first time a person not bent on some sort of demonic ambition was kissing her and it was _a man running a pleasant smelling bakery who was secretly an orc war-chief_.

"I've always wanted to do this," he murmured to her. Thrall was greatly enjoying his vacation.

"I know," she confessed, because she was also enjoying his vacation. Jaina faintly pondered how her life had taken such a turn while they earnestly embraced on the counter. Her fingers ran along his forearm, ripping the orb away from his wrist and tossing it aside.

The counter crashed to pieces when his weight tripled in an instant. Thrall, once again an orc, looked completely mortified.

He recovered quite admirably when she kissed him again.

* * *

And then, regrettably, it was suddenly over. The world marched on toward its many fates and they all had places they needed to be. Jaina decided that along with the obvious emotions that came with a tryst, she was also going to miss Vol'jin's impressive parfait.

"I told you, my dear, you really should have thrown them in the dungeon." Aegwynn nodded sagely and she drank tea laced with whiskey.

Jaina's head was once again resting on the cool wood of her desk. "I know," she muttered.

"Elves, orcs, even possibly that troll... What's next? A date with a dragon?"

"Don't give me anymore ideas, Aegwynn. _Please_."


End file.
